


I Hope I Mean Something

by voxane



Series: JJSAD.WAV [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Literal running away from your problems, M/M, Songfic in the year of our lord 2017, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 20:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxane/pseuds/voxane
Summary: All his friends, one's he couldn’t remember the names of, came up to him with pats on the back and hands on his shoulders. They’re smiles made his heart clench. He couldn’t get past all the pity. Of course it was pity. No one wanted him to feel bad, he was the pride and joy of Montreal. Skate Canada’s poster boy. He simply couldn’t do wrong. But JJ felt so very, very wrong and every compliment he didn’t believe solidified the idea that this was all for show.or,JJ gets hit with anxiety like a truck after Barcelona and has no idea how to cope other than being on the dick end of Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin.





	I Hope I Mean Something

**Author's Note:**

> I definitely posted this one night very very drunk. Because I wrote it very very drunk. In the morning I was so embarrassed I had to take it down!!! I couldn't look at it for a week, but it wasn't as bad as I thought? But I wanted a little more meat on it so it just wasn't a sophomoric skeleton of unrealized ideas. It still is very unrealized to me? I'm still kind of embarrassed? I might write a second half if the proper song hits me. 
> 
> Also song fic, god damnit Meg you're better than this. 
> 
> But if you want to give Team Me's With My Hands Covering Both of My Eyes I Am Too Scared To Have a Look at You Now maybe you'll feel what I felt that made me write this?!

_Mediocre friend_

 

Jean-Jacques got off the ice. He had just performed his EX skate. The plan was he had the band he collaborated with here, in Barcelona, with a brand new celebratory song. They’d play live, It would be bombastic and grandiose. JJ knew it’d be a knock out, before he botched everything. There wasn’t an ounce of bravado left in his bloodstream. He swallowed. He had to had to tell this band not to perform, it’s okay you’ll still get paid, and shrivel up under the question marks in their eyes. He probably destroyed this business relationship. JJ slowly felt like he was destroying everything he touched, it made him feel heavy. But he’d rather that than the dismal cheers of the crowd and the deafening sound of his false self glorification.

He skated to a recording. Everyone clapped, canadian flags waved so rapidly that he couldn’t see much more than a soft shape of red. Every stimuli echoed unenthusiastically in JJ’s head and the rattling made his skin crawl.

 

_Put on a mediocre smile for me_

 

Everyone came up to him at the banquet regardless of what happened. JJ acted the way he was supposed to. He was exhausted and his skin was breaking out in a sickly dull muddy shade.  He drenched his face in his ‘performance’ foundation. He knew it didn’t look any better but weight of it gave him peace of mind. 

"Jean I’m so proud.”

“JJ, you really pulled it out.”

“We were so impressed!”

All his friends, ones he couldn’t remember the names of, came up to him with pats on the back and hands on his shoulders. Their smiles made his heart clench. He couldn’t get past all the pity. Of course it was pity. No one wanted him to feel bad. He was the pride and joy of Montreal, Skate Canada’s poster boy. He simply couldn’t do wrong. But JJ felt so very, very wrong and each and every compliment he didn’t believe solidified the idea that this was all for show.

He knew it especially when he heard Plisetsky curse his name across the room.

“I don’t give a shit about his technical base score, Beka. You were robbed.”

 

_Mediocre friend_

_Pretend you're happy for me_

_Haappy for me_

 

Phichit Chulanont all but chased him down for a selfie. JJ smiled. He held Phichit’s camera so he could JJ style, and he congratulated him with a slew of emoji’s on instagram. JJ kept on looking at the post even though it made his heart sink. Christophe patted his butt, and it seemed forced. JJ usually loved any kind of attention, but Christophe’s long lashes felt like they pierced through him. He felt like he was being looked at like a 3 legged dog and he had to bite his lip to keep from making a face. Katsuki told him he did very well with a wavering smile. I felt earnest. JJ wanted to believe him so bad. A drunk Victor scooped up Yuuri and pulled him into a kiss with too much tongue and too many hands, and it twisted JJ’s guts in a kind of discomfort he didn’t understand.

 

_Mediocre song_

_Come on, It means something for someone_

 

There was a drunken serenade, everyone goaded him to sing. It  _ was  _ theme of king JJ after all, how could he not? He historically never once shied away at the opportunity. Usually he created the opportunity for himself. But there was so many reasons why it made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to sing. He was getting worn down by serving so much  _ brand _ . The ground felt like it was moving beneath him, and he was so light headed he had no idea if he could manage to walk. What Jean wanted to do most was be alone. But the had to be humble and deliver fake smiles and "JJ Style" to every last person at this gala. 

Canada’s proudest whoop and hollered, and he gave a million dollar smile.

 

_Mediocre song_

_means something, means something_

 

He felt bile in the back of his throat. It burned as he swallowed it back down.

  
  
_Mediocre band, perform mediocre songs for us_

_Mediocre band, dance for us, dance for us_

 

Bella made him dance with her. He’d never deny her, she deserved the world. He saw the way she cheered and cried for him, her heart so big it filled the entire stadium. She felt nothing but swelling pride for her fiance and she was more than eager to show him off. He felt her acrylic nails on the back of his neck and the sensation made his palms sweat.There were lipstick stains on his collar and he tried to furiously to scrub it away in a bathroom stall. He’d tell Isabella he just didn’t want to be tacky, or that it wasn’t for others to see. He wouldn’t say that Burberry’s Military Red made him feel queasy. The feeling sat flat and tepid in the bottom of his stomach.

She loved him. She loved him so much. She was even prouder of him than his parents were, and it was the first time JJ had ever seen his father cry. No matter what he did, or how bad he fucked up she had stars in her eyes and saw the world in him. He couldn’t stand it.

 

_Mediocre spark, surprise me, let me know you're still around_

 

She whispered in his ear everything she wanted to do to him tonight. Everything she wanted him to do to her. Total desire and raw sexuality that created a pit in JJs stomach. She reached out a tongue to circle the lobe of his ear and made sure her breath hit the wetness and kept talking dirty. Jean gasped, maybe due to the sensation, but it was probably his distress. She grinned at him, sliding a hand to rest just so on JJ’s hip. It was so much, so public, and he had no idea why he couldn’t deal with it. On his worst days Bella cheered him up, but all the affection just made him spiraling seasick. He couldn’t choke out words, so he simply placed his lips on her cheeks in the most chaste manner.

 

_Mediocre love means something, means something_

 

He saw Plisetsky and Altin necking in the corner and it did nothing to ease his nausea.

Yuri caught him looking and it knocked the wind out of him.

 

_With my hands covering both of my eyes_

_I am too scared to have a look at you now_

 

“Bella I can’t. You know I can’t.” He shrugged the shoulders of her dress back up. It wasn’t the first time he had turned her down. She knew how religious he was and what it meant to him. She respected it, but she had  _ needs  _ and tried to explain to him how it was okay as long as they didn’t.....

JJ swallowed.

He didn’t miss her perky nipples. He appreciated how symmetrical and beautiful her breasts were. He was an incredibly lucky man, that’s what people told him. Isabella could be a model. She was so hollywood gorgeous and wore everything like it was made for her. She was sweet and bright as the cherry colored lipstick that only she could ever make look so good. She was as smart as could be and kept him in line. Why wasn’t that enough? Why wasn’t he enough?

“I’m sorry.”

Jean turned away and hoped at the very least his lie was enough.

 

_I hope I mean something, I hope we mean something_

_I hope we mean something for you, my love_

 

Otabek Altin saw Jean staring into the bottom of a rocks glass alone at a dive bar. JJ had been there the better part of the day, and was relieved no one had found him to this point. Facing everyone made him feel flimsy, and facing Bella made him feel like he was under a gun that he loaded himself. When Otabek caught him that’s exactly what JJ looked like - caught. Otabek watched the emotions on his face shift from childlike fear to complete and utter exasperation. He saw the bags under his eyes, and how much frowning smoothed out his clammy skin over his cheekbones.

“Old fashioned please, two.” Otabek didn’t take his eyes of JJ while speaking to the  bartender. JJ couldn’t even muster out a thank you when Otabek basically wrapped his hands around the cold glass.

“I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, Beks.” The nickname felt wrong on JJ’s tongue. It came out cumbersome, and even that made JJ feel like shit. He couldn’t even keep friendships right.

“I don’t think I have control over any of it.” JJ dove into his drink. He needed anything to help him unclench his jaw and slow down the freight train of his stream of conscious. He knew better than to get wasted, but he begged for every nerve to just be whiskey numb if just for a moment.

Otabek put a hand on his shoulder. It was the most comfortable thing Jean had felt since being Barcelona. He wanted nothing more than to lean into the touch. It gave him so much solace but he knew he couldn’t. For so many reasons he just couldn’t. He clenched his fist. He couldn’t even be comforted without feeling fucky about it. Why did he single handedly destroy anything good he had?

“Yuri and I are going to have drinks in my room.” Otabek kept very hard, purposeful eye contact. Jean was pinned and helpless underneath. “Would you like to join us?”

How could he say no?

 

_With my hands covering both of my eyes_

_I am too scared to have a look at you now_

 

Plisetsky had his eyes done up again, just like his EX skate. He wondered if it was on purpose. If it was for him. Yuri smirked at him, teeth razor sharp. Jean knew the kid had fire in his blood but he had never dealt with the brunt of his heat. Yuri had a confident hand on the base of his cock and shoved it against Jean's cheek. Jean knew he should’ve been more reluctant, but he greedily took him whole. It was just something else to destroy. But of all the mistakes he had made, this one felt the best.

“Are you fucking crying? God that’s hot. I want lick your tears off your fucking face.” Yuri grabbed him by his hair with pure force and pain. The sensation was comforting in contrast to the amorphous murkiness he had been suffocating in. Yuri was so rough, nails on his scalp and insults in his ear. JJ sputtered on his cock, and the tears wouldn’t stop.

  
  
_I hope I mean something, I hope we mean something_

_I hope we mean something for you, my love_

 

Yuri’s control was harsh like a head rush. Like a hit of a drug Jean had never ever tried. Altin was more like the sweet, heavy whiskey he had earlier. He didn’t insult him like Yuri did, but pushed him in all the right ways. He took a thumb to his cheek to wipe away a tear while JJ worked him with both hands. He rubbed a hand through his hair and it stung in all the places Yuri pulled too hard. Otabek asked if it was okay to shove his cock down his throat. JJ didn’t hesitate to say yes. He could still feel the tears run down his face as he tried his best to get his lips to the base of Otabek’s cock but he gagged and Yuri laughed at him. Otabek furrowed his brow in a familiar way, like he was thinking what he wouldn’t say. Maybe he was worried if JJ was hurt, or maybe he knew there was something more on his mind. He pulled his thick cock out of JJ’s mouth and stared at his swollen, panting lips.

 

“Take me?” It sounded pitiful. JJ was pitiful. But Otabek obliged.

 

_My mediocre sleep_

_my mediocre sleep explains_

 

He got home late. Isabella sighed in relief, and she didn’t even yell at him for leaving his phone in the room. Jean gave her an honest smile, and was not surprised to see confusion and concern on her face.

“I needed to figure somethings out.”

Her lips folded into a frown and he kept his smile tight on his face.

JJ was awake late into the night. He knew sleep wouldn’t come. It hadn’t in days. It was different tonight. It wasn’t a swirling cocktail of everything he couldn’t keep out of his head. Tonight it was lukewarm emotions that he didn’t understand, but it wasn’t uneasy. What made him uneasy, was that Bella was awake, and she knew he was awake. Neither made any move. JJ was sure Bella had so much she wanted to say, and JJ had so much he  _ should _ say. They both had the words stuck somewhere deep in their throats. He knew she was scared of hurting him. JJ was scared he would actually vomit if he tried to talk.

 

_Mediocre me, ice cold and super silent_

 

He wondered she could smell Altin’s cum in his ass. Or Plisetsky’s on his tongue.

 

_Mediocre me, about to leave everything behind_

 

He couldn’t do this anymore. He waited until Isabella’s body gave up on her restless mind and he grabbed his suitcase. He didn’t even think about looking back.

 

_With my hands covering both of my eyes_

_I am too scared to have a look at you now_

 

Jean was in the airport. He had been there most of the night and a better part of the morning. His bright red bag was stuffed with whatever clothes he could get without stirring Bella. He was panting even though he hadn’t moved from the plastic seat in hours. But he had been doing emotional marathons all night and never found a finish line. He looked ridiculous, and felt dull under Plisetsky’s dumbfounded gaze.

“Let me go with you?” His voice cracked despite himself. He knew it sounded insane. He stared at his shoes, saw his initials embroidered on the tongue and felt suddenly bashful. He thought he was so ready for this question, for this encounter.

Jean had fucked literally everything up. He couldn’t sleep. He barely ate. He couldn't think about anything he had done in Barcelona that didn’t make him want to run and hide. But he felt the burning discomfort in his ass, and the stinging in his scalp and it was the only that that made  _ sense.  _ It was stupid, but it’s the only thing he could believe in right now. He gulped.

"I know it’s not....like that.” That they loved  each other in a way that Jean just didn’t fit in.

 

_I hope I mean something,_

 

“It doesn’t have to be. I just-”

  
  
_I hope we mean something_

 

He was crying again, and he wasn’t surprised. What did surprise him is Yuri didn’t laugh at him. Or insult him. He tilted his head and unwinded his frown, just a bit. Jean hiccuped and rubbed his eyes. He heard Yuri sigh and was already braced for the worst. He screwed his eyes shut, waiting for the verbal lashing and mental torture he had laid for himself. Instead, JJ felt soft embrace. It was the last thing he expected. He flashed his eyelids open to Yuri’s arms gingerly around him, and his face turned away. Jean looked at Otabek for answers, and he had that same concerned typical look on his face.

“He’s hurt.” Yuri said it plainly, like it was something that wasn’t news to either of them. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe they saw through him this entire fucking time.

“Yeah.” Otabek turned around and walked to the Delta agent. Jean knew he was arguing for a ticket for him and briefly wondered if he’d end up in St. Petersburg or Almaty. He owed them both so much. Anywhere he would go some one would be there for him, and wouldn’t expect anything fucking good out of him. It was a relief honestly. He wanted to say thank you. Say anything. But all he could do was try not to rub snot all over Yuri’s team Russia jacket.

  
  
_I hope we mean something for you, my love_

 

Isabella texted him every single day since he went ‘missing’. Jean didn’t respond to a single one of them. He looked at them constantly, like picking a scab. He was bogged down with guilt and shame but he didn’t have the fortitude to face her yet. He probably never would. Everyone knew where he was anyways. There was tabloids about him skating in  Russia and pictures of him arguing with Yakov posted on skating blogs. Even some picture’s on Yuri’s twitter hinted he was around, but never admitted it outright. Selfies of Yuri at a bar with a vodka tonic in hand, and an old fashioned with a tan arm to the side. A maple leaf coffee mug in his kitchen. It wasn’t like it was a secret. But Jean wouldn’t admit a thing.

  
  
_With my hands covering both of my eyes_

_I am too scared to have a look at you now_

  
  
He had his palms in his eye sockets the next time Otabek was in St. Petersburg. He knew it was a special moment and he felt invasive. So when he had both Otabek and Yuri working each of his nipples he could only feel vile. These sensations had been building up for so long now. No matter how he ran, it caught up to him.

That he didn’t belong. 

The high of sex had come and gone and Jean was drowning again. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong anywhere.

 

_I hope I mean something_

 

“Jean.” Otabek’s rough voice was enough to open one eye to look at him. He peeked through fingers like a child.

“It’s fucking okay.” Yuri gasped, after releasing his mouth from his chest. He reached down to work his delicate fingers over his cock in a way that he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to. He wanted to just feel good, but the harder he became the harder it was not to cry.

 

_I hope we mean something_

 

“I’m such a disappointment.” To Bella. To his parents. To his country. Most of all to his god damn self. It was a burden he had been carrying for so long and wasn’t willing to face .  Jean didn’t fully understand what it even was, but he knew he never dared look it in the eye.

“You’re an idiot.” Plisetsky kissed him right on the mouth. It was aggressive and full of tongue. JJ realized they had never actually kissed before. They fooled around plenty. Jean would get drunk off 3 beers and ask Yuri to rough him up a little bit. Yuri never said no and most of the time sent Otabek pictures. It was never tender, always this needy pull of physicality and something in JJ that he needed stomped out. Yuri kissing him was the exact opposite of that. He leaned into it and couldn’t help but wrap his arms around his waist like he was the world.

“It’s okay, Jean.” Altin grabbed his jaw and started kissing him too. It was more meticulous, almost calculated. Like Otabek had thought about doing this so much but was waiting for the ‘right time’. JJ was sure none of this was right, but it was as good a time as any. He moved to nuzzle his cheek. Try and grab as much of the both of them he could possibly get. Hold on to the fleeting tenderness as much as he could, because the cold world was still outside this bedroom door.

 

_I hope we mean something for you, my love_

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [@voxane](http://www.voxane.tumblr.com)! I'm trying to use it more and be a more 'active' member in fandom so let me follow you!


End file.
